


Collide

by notjustmom



Series: Ironstrange [60]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bump in rating Ch. 5, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stephen is an artist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 21,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Stephen is hired to paint Tony's portrait for his 21st birthday; eventually this will follow them through their complicated relationship.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Ironstrange [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1163456
Comments: 224
Kudos: 87
Collections: Happy Birthday scrub456





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scrub456](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub456/gifts).



> For my partner in crime, and best friend on her birthday, a bit of a plot bunny that struck last year, and will be continued in whatever form the characters allow. ;)
> 
> Much love, sweet. xox

_Tradition._  
Right.  
Tradition as of two weeks ago, when Howard decided that he would hire the best and brightest to paint his son's portrait to commemorate his upcoming twenty-first birthday, as if he were royalty.  
What utter bullshit.

“Don’t move.”

“Sorry.”

Tony Stark was used to being looked at, had been from an early age, but this sitting seemed more of a cross-examination than anything else. He had done his research on the artist who stood a few yards away from him, Stephen Strange… perfect name, and it was his real name, as far as he could determine, all the art magazines had called him -

“Take a break.”

“Huh?”

“I need to adjust the lighting. Take a break, stretch, walk around, whatever.”

“Right.” Tony watched as Stephen took a few steps back from the painting and frowned at it, then picked up his palette knife, then put it back down again and crossed his arms.

“Is this any fun for you?”

“Fun?” Stephen asked as he gave him his full attention for the first time. 

Tony blinked at the light and humor in the green-blue, (or was it blue-green?) eyes, and had to look away. He found himself at a rare loss for words for a moment before he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I mean, do you get any enjoyment from painting the people who can afford to pay you to paint them?”

Stephen chuckled humorlessly to himself as he walked over to the lamp and adjusted the angle slightly. “I _enjoy_ eating and buying the supplies I need to do my work, and drinking decent wine every so often. I _enjoy_ paying my rent and utilities -”

“Not what I asked, okay, technically, yes -”

“I knew what you meant.”

Stephen walked back over to the easel and picking up the palette knife again made a slow swipe at the canvas. It seemed to satisfy him as he nodded at the result then lifted his eyes in Tony’s direction again.

“I take these jobs so I can afford to paint those people I actually enjoy spending time with.” He studied the younger man’s features objectively for a moment, and aside from the wariness in the warm brown eyes and the slight smirk that graced his lips at that moment, he was certain that if he bumped into him on a sidewalk back home in Harlem, he would have no interest in painting him by choice. 

And yet. 

He noted as the light in his eyes changed for a brief moment, there was an intelligence there, honest curiosity, maybe even a bit of humor. He saw more than most people of his class usually did, and he could tell he had done his research. “As you probably already know, I usually paint musicians, poets, struggling actors. The people you will never hear of, or read about in People magazine. They have to work two or three jobs you would probably consider menial so they can support themselves enough to do the work they do ‘enjoy.’” 

He knew there were other questions running through the sitter’s head, but he wasn’t ready to hear them, and he was on a tight schedule. Of course, Howard Stark had told him to take all the time he needed, but he needed the portrait yesterday. “Are you ready to begin again?”

A relatively painless and extremely profitable commission became the equivalent of a head-on collision at 40+ miles per hour. Stephen swore at his newest canvas and scraped it down again, as again, he couldn’t forget the look in Tony Stark’s deep brown eyes; it had been months since the sitting and what had been called his best work since - it had become a symbol of capitalism gone overboard - damn. The look Tony had given him as the curtain had dropped away from the canvas clashed with the stunned silence, then deafening roar of applause, had left him completely unmoored. He had never before stayed for an unveiling, this one time, he had changed his flight plans, and stayed another day. He had needed to know if Tony would understand, if he could see what he had intended to show him - but he had obviously failed. Utterly and completely.

Months later, he found himself unable to paint anything but him, when he was able to paint at all, and he hadn’t completed a painting of any size since that last portrait. Today, after not sleeping for three days, he had tried again, to paint anything but the brown eyes that still haunted him, but had failed yet again, and dropping his brush into the jar of solvent and falling onto his bed, he slept until his radio alarm woke him with the news that Tony Stark was now a very wealthy orphan at the age of twenty-one.

“Hell.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony...

After that first singular exchange, Tony decided not to antagonize the artist by attempting further conversations, but for once simply followed the directions he was given. 

He actually found it liberating in a way to be told what to do, and even once, Strange had gently pushed his chin into the angle he desired then nodded his satisfaction and moved away without a sound. He wondered for a brief moment, what it meant that he didn't mind being at the mercy of the man wielding the paint brush and palette knife, then let his breath go slowly, hoping it didn't change the pose at all. At times he wanted the painting to go quickly so he could stop feeling so scrutinized, and thought of each scar and blemish, and tried to recall his other work, was he a 'warts and all' artist, or would he be more sympathetic to one who had managed to escape his teen years nearly acne free except for that one place on his left cheek - but he also enjoyed being the focus of Strange's attention, the blue-green eyes, with a bit of gold studied him in a way that made him blush at times, as no one had really spent that much time simply looking at him before, not even, or especially, if he thought about it, his parents.

"That's it."

"Hmm?"

"I'm done."

Tony slipped from his pose and stretched, then shoved his hands in his pockets and edged his way closer to the easel until Strange glanced up at him and with a half-smirk muttered, "uh-uh. Sorry. Not yet."

"Aw, c'mon..."

"Nope."

"Strange -" 

"Trust me?" Stephen asked quietly and Tony took an involuntary step backward. He could count the number of people he trusted on two fingers, but he felt himself nod, then he cleared his throat and left the room, needing to escape from the undefinable look in Stephen's eyes.

"Master Anthony?"

"Jarvis."

"The portrait is completed?"

"Yeah, seems to be."

"Are you pleased?"

"Dunno, he won't let me see it."

"Ahhh, the prerogative of the artist."

"Guess so."

Jarvis placed a hand on his shoulder and waited for him to take a breath and let it go again. "It will be over soon, all this commotion, and life will go back to normal, again."

"Yeah," Tony muttered quietly, "that's what I'm afraid of Jarvis. Nothing ever really changes around here, does it."

Jarvis knew it was a rhetorical question, but answered anyway, "not as such, Anthony. One day, perhaps you will find a different way."

"You really think Howard will listen to me more because I'm finally twenty-one? I don't," and with a shrug of his shoulders, he turned away and strode out of his carriage house, then walked over to the garage where he didn't emerge until it was time for the unveiling of the portrait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit on the angsty side...

"Strange? You in there?"

Stephen groaned as he glared at yet another canvas that had stalled, then dropped the palette knife into the jar of solvent, wiped his hands on a rag and closed his eyes before calling out, "yeah, just hold on."

He opened the door to the owner of the club he had lived above since he had left home at sixteen. "What is it, Danny?"

"There's a guy -" The older man walked into the room, glanced at the studio walls and swore. "If it isn't the spitting image - wait a minute, the guy downstairs, he's not? Steph, listen, you know I've never stuck my nose into your business before, but -" he motioned at the half-finished canvases, then walked over to the easel and shook his head. "I can send him on his way, but, I think you need to talk to him, he looks a bit rough, even rougher than you did when you first came here. Remember, he's a kid, a kid with money, yeah, he's certainly not hurting for that - just let him down easy." 

He looked into Stephen's eyes and shook his head. "Just be careful, Steph, yer usually pretty good at not getting attached, but -" He pointed at one painting and nodded. "That's one of your best, you should finish it, and if I were you, once it's done I'd send him packing, and get on with your life, but I've got the feeling that isn't going to happen is it?"

"Send him up, Dan, hmm?"

"Yeah, will do. Just -"

"Don't worry, okay?"

"Right." Danny rolled his eyes, but offered him a smirk and left the studio, closing the door gently behind him.

Stephen spun around the small space, trying to bring the chaos under the least bit of control, when he realized it didn't matter. Once Stark saw the paintings that covered the walls, and understood - understood, what, exactly? That he, at the very least had lost his mind, maybe? He knew he would -

"Stephen?" The voice wasn't the one he remembered from the sittings, or from the rare sound bytes he gave in the days after the deaths of his parents, but it was the sound of someone obviously in pain. He looked at himself in the mirror and laughed, then cleared his throat and called out, "yeah, I'm coming."

He opened the door again to find a shadow of the young man he had painted just six months earlier, and held his arms out as Tony fell against him, and nearly took him down. "I'm sorry," Tony whispered before he passed out. Stephen swore lightly under his breath, but somehow managed to pick him up and carry him into the room, shutting the door closed with his foot. He placed him gently on the bed he hadn't bothered to make in weeks, and sighed heavily as he covered him, then dropped to the floor and watched the man he had dreamed of for the last six months roll over in his sleep.

"Where am I?"

Stephen grumbled out from behind his easel, "my studio in Harlem. You really did your research, Stark, or paid off the right people enough to find me. You look like hell."

Tony sat up and examined his surroundings for the first time, and couldn't think of a word to say for a moment, then he ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

"You said that already."

"When I saw the portrait, when I - knew -" Tony got up from the bed, and slowly made his way around the small space, until he stopped in front of the painting Danny had pointed out. "No one has ever seen me how you do. It's like you -"

"I've spent the last six months trying to paint you out of my system," Stephen growled out, then walked away from the easel and stared down at his feet. "You weren't who I expected to find when I took that commission on. I've been painting portraits since I was a kid, I left home at sixteen, was lucky enough to land here, and ten years later, I've painted hundreds of faces, none of them - not a single one of them broke my heart, until you - and I still can't even tell you why. If I could figure it out -"

"Will you, can I - give me a second chance, Stephen?" Tony asked quietly as he moved closer and eventually stood in front of Stephen, afraid to make another move. "Please?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just another bit for today...

"This - we - you and me. This is such a terrible idea," Stephen whispered, still not looking up to meet Tony's gaze.

"I know, logically, I know it is, but, I don't really care," Tony answered in return. "Look at me, Stephen, please?"

Stephen took a breath, then finally looked up into the brown eyes he knew all too well, and saw how much they had aged in the last few months. He was no longer the same person he had painted, something had broken in him, perhaps it was the deaths of his parents, or something else, he didn't know, and he didn't care, all he knew was that he needed him to stay. "Tony."

Tony nodded at him then hesitantly lifted his hand and placed a single finger on Stephen's lips, then closed his eyes and sighed as Stephen kissed his fingertip, then grabbed his hand and led him back to the rumpled bed.

"I don't do this."

"This." Tony repeated as he stretched out on the bed, and patted the small space next to him. "This, as in -?"

"Relationships. I mean, of course, I have relationships, friendships, but not with -"

"People you paint."

"It's a rule I made for myself a long time ago."

"I've always believed rules are made to be broken."

"You would," Stephen snarked back, but knelt on the bed next to him, and drew in a sharp breath as he smiled up at him. "You're quite beautiful when you smile."

"I haven't had a lot to smile about since the unveiling."

"I am sorry - I didn't know -"

"No, it wasn't your fault. The press has always had a loathe/love relationship with me ever since, well, since I could walk and talk. I was good press for the company, until, well -" Tony closed his eyes and shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. I came here to find you because - well, I needed to know if you still felt the same way as you did back then. Back when you painted me, it seems like years now, but I -"

"Yes. I didn't want to, but, I guess, the heart wants what it wants, no matter what the head claims otherwise."

Tony sat up and gazing into the iridescent eyes, asked, "would you mind terribly if I kissed you right now?"

Stephen shook his head and whispered, "please."


	5. Chapter 5

Tony pushed his fingers into Stephen's curls and smiled as he heard Stephen whimper. "You don't understand how long I've thought about doing this, dreamed about this, you. All those days when you would glare at me, and mumble to yourself -"

"Stop talking and kiss me already, Stark," Stephen whispered, then opened his eyes to find Tony smiling at him. "What?"

"You're stunning."

"'m not."

"You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life, and I've met some beautiful people..."

"Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"

Tony laughed, then tugged slightly on Stephen's curls. "Everyone who has ever met me, who has known me for longer than a day or two."

Stephen sighed impatiently, then placed his right hand over Tony's chest and feeling his racing heartbeat under his fingers, said quietly, "I'm not everyone else, Tony. Just breathe for me, I'm not going anywhere, and I hope - I mean, damn - it doesn't matter what happens after, just be here with me, yeah? Forget about whatever it is for the moment, and -" his next words, whatever they were going to be were taken by Tony's warm, dry mouth on his and it was all he could do not to melt into him and promise him anything, and everything if he would just stay.

Tony pulled away and blinked at him, then pressed two fingers to his own lips as if he had been stung. "Tony?"

"Hmm? Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not."

"Yeah? I mean you have rules after all, and -" He took a shuddering breath, then sighed as Stephen wiped away the tear that slid down his face. "I don't know how long I can stay, life - my life is -"

"Complicated. I know."

Tony shook his head, then whispered, "you don't - but it doesn't matter, please, Stephen?"

Stephen nodded and after a moment's hesitation, reached over and lifted Tony's faded concert shirt over his head, and tossed it aside before he cradled Tony's face in his hands and kissed him slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. "You can stay as long as you want, as long as you can, I know I don't have much, but -" he gasped as Tony's nimble fingers worked on the buttons of his painting shirt, and it was quickly dispatched. 

"Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?" Tony asked with a chuckle.

"You'd be the first," Stephen admitted and felt his face warm under Tony's heated gaze. "I -"

"Shhh..." Tony took his right hand in his and pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist and Stephen found himself trembling, as Tony gently laid him on the pillows and looked into his eyes, then without uttering another word, promised him everything he had ever wanted, as he slowly took him apart, then somehow put him back together in a way that defied logic.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the cracks in his ceiling, fifty-one of them, at last count, all, well, most were cosmetic, he had been assured. One day, he kept telling himself, he'd get Danny to get a painter in and at least cosmetically fix them, but at the moment, he needed something real to bring him back to Earth.

"You okay?" A nearby voice asked, and he turned his head to find Tony looking at him curiously.

"Yeah, I'm - I'm fine. You're - uhm... remarkable. Listen, I know it might sound a bit - just stay right there, yeah, like that, please?"

Tony laughed as Stephen got up from the bed and walked over to his easel. "What's so funny?" Stephen grumbled as he tried to focus on mixing the colors he saw as the mid-afternoon light danced over Tony's skin.

"Nothin'."

"Don't move, then."

"Love you, too."

The palette knife fell from Stephen's fingers and he glared over at him as he bent over to pick it up. "Give me ten minutes, hmm? Then we'll go down and eat something. Ten minutes?"

"I'll give you fifteen, if you come over here and kiss me again."

Stephen rolled his eyes, but stalked towards the bed and kissed him until Tony had to pull away to catch his breath. "Twenty..."

"Deal."


	6. Chapter 6

"Yo, Danny - couple of cheeseburgers, yeah?" Stephen winked at Tony as he got up from the table. "Be right back."

Tony leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the biggest burger he'd ever seen had been placed in front of him and Danny was sitting across the table from him, studying him carefully.

"I know who you are, at least what CNN says about you, and I've known him since he was a kid, and I know, hell, all I know is that whatever happened when he went to California messed him up big time. I know you're both adults, and can do whatever you want, just, be careful that you don't - whatever - enjoy the burger, kid."

Danny got up from the booth and Tony cleared his throat, then muttered, "thanks, I'm not - it's not my intention to hurt him, it's the last thing I want to do, it's just my life is complicated -"

"Everyone's life is complicated, kid, just be honest with him, yeah? Now, eat that before it gets cold."

Tony nodded, and picking up the burger realized he hadn't really eaten in over a day and a half, and he sighed as he took his first bite.

"Good, huh?" Stephen asked as he slid into his seat, and placed a soda bottle next to Tony's plate. "I don't drink. I know it seems funny, since I live above a bar, but I learned early on - drinking and me don't agree, artistically or in any other way. I figure I'm dramatic enough without it. Sorry if Danny said anything, he took me in when I didn't have anyone, and he tends to be a bit protective. Shit. I'm talking too much again."

Tony shook his head, and took a sip of soda, then placed it carefully on the table. "No, he's right. If I could, I'd stay here and be your muse or whatever - I don't know. You could always -" He sighed as he saw the look on Stephen's face and shrugged. 

"Can we just enjoy the time we have, now?" Stephen asked. "I didn't expect to ever - to be honest, I thought, hell, it doesn't matter. Eat, and we'll take a walk around the neighborhood afterwards?" He watched as the sunlight hit Tony's face again, and he muttered under his breath as he picked up a french fry, "or we might just go back upstairs."

"Whatever you want, Stephen, I'm all yours."

"Oh, yeah? Eat and we'll see what happens, hmm?"

Tony couldn't remember the last time he ate anything so fast.

"Right there. Don't move." Tony winked at him and Stephen sighed and rolled his eyes. "Damn, you're distracting."

"Well, come over here, and I won't be so distracting, hmm?"

"Tony..."

"Sorry, I'll be good."

Stephen scowled at the painting in front of him, then shook his head and couldn't help but laugh as he dropped his brush and removed his smock, then made his way over to the bed and knelt in front of Tony. "The best distraction I've had in years..."

Tony grinned at him and whispered, "you know -"

"Yeah, I know." He kissed him lightly, then sighed against his lips, "I love you too."


	7. Chapter 7

Just a dream. That's all it was, Stephen told himself as he opened his eyes to find Tony tucked tightly against him as he had been those mornings when they had bothered to waste time sleeping. He rubbed his eyes, then ran his fingers lightly through Tony's hair, trying to remind himself that he was real and safe there next to him.

Two months. It had only been two months out of his twenty-six years and it felt like a lifetime, and a blink of an eye at the same time.

Just last night, he looked away from his canvas to find Tony studying him, and he knew not to ask what he was thinking about. After the first week, he had started to ask how long they had, how long _he_ had, but then stopped himself. He didn't want to know.

But at the moment, even before Tony's face broke into a smile, as it always did, when he knew he was being watched, Stephen knew their time was coming to an end. There was nothing that could really be done about it. Tony didn't really belong in his world, as much as Stephen wanted to believe he could give up who and what he was, and it had been apparent from his brief time in Tony's universe that he had no business trying to claim a stake in his. Perhaps they could attempt a long distance relationship, but he knew once Tony returned to his old life, the person he was now -

"You're thinking too much, Steph."

"Tony. I'm just being -"

"Realistic?"

Tony finally opened his eyes and leaned in closer to nuzzle his neck, and he could barely breathe from the heat that raced through him. "Damn..." he managed to mutter, and for the next ten minutes he stopped thinking about the future or anything else.

"I'm serious." Stephen sat up and tried to get out of bed, but Tony reached out to lay a hand on his back and he froze before he sighed and turned to face him. "This - whatever this is that we're doing - I know it's not something you want on a permanent basis - even if you do, or think you do, you don't really belong here as much as I would love to spend the rest of my life painting you, probably will anyway, after you -"

Tony reached up and brushed the curls from Stephen's eyes. "You could come back with me, you know I have space, I would build you any studio you want... no. I know, you would hate it, hate what I would eventually become, who I really am - I'm a Stark, no matter how much I wish I could just stay here and be your muse and... I could come back on weekends, I mean, I do have a private jet, two, in fact -"

Stephen snorted, then leaned down to kiss him, before finally getting to his feet and offering Tony his hand. "Let's get a shower, and have breakfast, and then get dressed. We'll go feed the ducks, and I'll take you to see my favorite painting..."

Tony had expected to take a cab to a museum, or a posh gallery, but as Stephen tightened his grip on his hand and walked him to a neighborhood that had seen happier days, he realized he should have known better. Stephen smiled at four girls jumping double dutch and they all stopped and whistled at them as they passed. "Not bad, Strange," the oldest one called out. "When you gonna paint us?" 

"I'll be over next week, Monday work for you?"

"Have to check my schedule," the girl smiled back, then crossed her arms and looked Tony over. "What's yer name?"

"Tony."

"Tony... not bad at all - you better be nice to him. He's one of the good ones."

Tony glanced at Stephen's profile, and nodded. "Yeah, he is. I'll do my best."

"You do that." She grinned at him, then cleared her throat, and nudged the girl next to her. "No more gawking, girls, let's go... one, two, three..." 

"You -"

"I volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club, teach them about art, make sure they have art supplies, help out with homework sometimes, I just want to - I don't want them to -" He stopped in front of a faded mural, the paint had cracked and peeled in places, but from what Tony could tell, it had once been a brightly colored painting of a black trumpet player, and the form did remind him of Stephen's paintings. "This was the first real painting I'd ever seen. I mean, I knew of all the famous painters from books, but this one - I've been saving up to buy the building so I can restore what's left of it -" He dropped Tony's hand and turned to face him. "I didn't bring you here to tell you that, I just wanted you to know that my life is here, this is my neighborhood, my life is just as complicated as yours is -"

"Let me? Please? I wanted to give you something that really means something - please, Stephen, it would make me happy." 

Stephen turned and looked up at the painting again, then reached for Tony's hand. "When do you have to leave?"

"Couple of days."

"No press?"

"I swear, no one will know I had anything to do with it; it will be in your name."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah, you'd be surprised what I can do, given the chance."

Stephen whispered as he squeezed Tony's hand. "No, I think you can do anything you set your heart on."

"You think so?"

"I know so."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes, as it does, in this verse, Tony is thirty-five when he is kidnapped in Afghanistan, and it has been a few years since Stephen has seen him...

"Strange!"

"What? I'm the middle of something -" He looked over at Naomi, who had been his assistant for the last ten years. She didn't usually interrupt his work except for - "Naomi?" 

"You need to come downstairs. Now." 

He sighed and glared at his latest painting which was giving him fits. Ever since computers had slowly but surely invaded the art world, he had fewer big commissions, which gave him more time to do the work he wanted to do, but recently his mind kept going back to the last time he had seen -

"It's about your Tony." Naomi had never forgotten the day she met Tony Stark, and when she learned that he had been responsible for helping restore not just the mural she loved, but transforming her neighborhood as well, she had decided that Stephen had been a fool and told him so for letting him 'get away.'

"He's not my - Naomi - hell. What the hell was he doing in Afghanistan?" He leaned against the bar and squinted at the screen. Naomi had been teasing him for the last couple of years that he was getting old, more than once suggesting he get his eyes checked, and as he ran his fingers through his hair that was turning silver at the edges, then grimaced at the big screen television, he felt each of his forty-one years.

"Sounds like he was demonstrating the newest tech -"

"When did you hear from him last?"

Naomi shrugged. She and Tony had stayed in touch after the big public blow up, mostly by email, and the rare phone call, and she had done her best to smooth things over, but Stephen hadn't spoken his name in five years and would give her 'the look' if she mentioned him in passing. "Last week. He -"

"'He'... what, Naomi?"

"He was going to stop here on his way back to California. I had told him about the mural I'm working on, and he wanted to be here for the big party when the thing is finally finished. Shit, I'm sorry, Stephen. I thought, maybe - if you two just saw each other again?"

He had stopped listening as his painting of Tony flashed on the screen, and he sighed as Naomi helped him sit on the nearest bar stool. "Stephen? I can stay if you need me to?"

"No - your big party is in a couple of days, and I know it's not quite finished."

"You checkin' up on me, Strange?"

"No, sweetie, it's just - this morning - nightmare -" He blinked up at the screen again and shook his head. "Weird..."

"Stevie, talk to me?"

"Nothing. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I went for a walk, and I ended up at the mural, and then I wanted to see, I knew you were close to being finished. It's brilliant - truly. I remember that day so clearly. It was a couple of days before he left - it's when he offered to buy the building, I never asked him, and I never really thanked him -"

"He knows."

"Na-"

"He told me - he regrets everything he said, and he misses - last time we talked, he said that if he could go back and make a different choice, he would've stayed."

Stephen laughed as Tony's famous collection of cars appeared on the screen. "Right, like he would've given that up?"

"You know he would. You know he would do anything for you -"

"Naomi."

She walked towards the door and grabbed her jacket. "I gotta go paint. Go upstairs and take a look at those paintings. I don't know why you won't take them down, except you know you haven't done anything as good as those before or since, and you still love him. Now he's missing, Stephen. He might very well be -"

He nearly fell off the stool and spun to face her. "Don't say it. Don't you dare. I'd know. I'd know if he were gone, I'd know."

Naomi nodded and whispered, "yeah, sweetie, I know. If anyone can survive that it'd be him. I can stay if it would help."

"No, go, I'm - I'll be fine. Thanks -"

"He never stopped loving you."

"I know."

"See you tomorrow, yeah?"

Stephen whispered as he turned his focus back to the screen, "yeah, see ya tomorrow, Nomi."

Her childhood nickname shook her for a moment, and she paused, but then opened the door and walked out of the bar and breathed in the scents of a fall afternoon, a perfect day for painting outdoors.

Stephen stopped then took a few steps back and nodded as he smiled at her. "It's beautiful, Naomi." The mural ran the length of a wall of the new school, built mostly because of the money Tony had invested over the years. It was of four black girls jumping double-dutch, including one that closely resembled Naomi, but she was younger - her sister. "How is she?" Stephen asked quietly.

"Last I heard, she was fine. Kids are keeping her busy, and she finally got her first teaching job. That's your fault you know - you gave her the teaching bug, thinks she can make a difference." She snorted and shook her head. "Any news?"

"Nope." He shoved his hands into his pockets, and glared at the ground. "There's a video, made myself watch it. He - they - he's alive, at least he was."

Naomi walked over to him, then wiped her hands on her coveralls and wrapped her arms around him. "Tell me."

"They aren't asking for a ransom, and he's hurt, and I can't - I can't help him, Naomi, and I can't tell him, he thinks -"

"No. NO. He knows, he knows you still love him, and he will fight to get back here, back to you, I know that more than anything. Now, I have to go get cleaned up. And, I want you to - I need you to stand with me tonight, if Tony were here, he'd say something slick and charming -"

Stephen let her go and shook his head."No, he would say something ridiculously sweet about you, to make you blush, and explain what this neighborhood means to him, and how proud of you he is."

"Yeah?"

"You know that he would. I'll do my best to speak for him tonight."

"Thank you, Stephen. Without you two -"

"Naomi -"

"It's just the two of you made me believe that anything was possible. You two are so different, and yet, you gave me hope, and that's what - without hope, what else is there? He's going to come home to us, Stephen."


	9. Chapter 9

"Family..." Tony shook his head and stared into the tin cup before lifting his eyes to meet Yinsen's. "If you mean by blood, or marriage... no."

"But you have someone."

"Yeah. Two someones. I met them when I was young. There was a time when I had a chance to be something other than Tony Stark. I could have walked away, it would have been crazy, and I still think I made the right choice for him, but it would have been a good life, and I probably wouldn't have ended up here."

"You chose for him?"

"If I had stayed - his life wouldn't have been the same as it had before. My father hired him to paint my portrait, when I was twenty-one. He showed me to myself, and to the rest of the world at the same time. I saw the beginnings of love in it, the world saw it differently. Made his name. No. That's not fair, my dad wouldn't have chosen someone who didn't already have a name. After my parents' deaths, I went and found him. You might call it slumming, but I needed to get away from myself - at least the me everyone else knew or thought they knew." He stopped and saw a glint of something in Yinsen's eyes, and he realized he had just said more than he had in the last two months. "Yeah. I have family I want to get back to, because I think he - no, I _know_ he thinks that I don't - and I do - you know."

"The other?"

"Hmm?"

"You said there were two."

"Yeah, her name is Nomi, Naomi. She's been Stephen's assistant for years now, but when I met her, she was a kid. She changed me - she was stuck in the system, and by - it was nothing really."

"Tell me?"

"I met her right before I went back to my old life, and then Stephen showed me a mural. He'd been living rougher than he needed to so he could save money to buy the building that only meant something because of the artwork on it, he wanted to buy it in order to save it. I saw it in his eyes that it was important to him. So, when we got back to his place, I started putting the wheels in motion. I might've only been twenty-one, but the Stark name makes stuff happen, for good and bad. I bought the building in his name, along with a couple of others, and over the years - I've never told anyone this before."

"No, I can tell you haven't."

"Only later did I realize that what I had done was important to the neighborhood, and to Naomi in particular. She's the sister I never had. I haven't talked to Stephen in years, not for lack of trying. I - uhm - did something stupid - embarrassed myself and him, and he's never forgiven me. She still talks to me. She was painting a mural when I talked to her last - for the new school." He couldn't help but smile over at Yinsen, and he saw understanding in his eyes.

"So no matter what happens here, Stark, you will be well thought of in some circles, that is good, my friend. Very good. But don't you want to get back to them? Back to see the mural, back to do more good?"

"Yeah, I do, but I'm gonna need your help."

"Tony?"

"Hmmm?" Tony blinked again and looked over at Rhodey who was studying him from a chair. He obviously hadn't slept in a bed in days. "Where am I?"

"Germany. Pit stop before we head home. You do want to go home, don't you?"

Tony stared at him in confusion. "Whatya mean?"

Naomi cleared her throat from the doorway and Tony tried to sit up to get a better look at her. "How? Rhodes - you've been snoopin'."

Rhodey shook his head and eased Tony back against the pillows. "No, she is just very persistent, and yes, I did go through your emails. JARVIS got me in, you know, in case I had to prepare for a - well -"

"Memorial service?" Tony scoffed, then remembered his ribs and he stopped laughing. "Damn. I'm guessing it wouldn't have been well attended if things had played out that way."

At that Naomi stomped into the room and glared at him. Only then did he see the tears and exhaustion on her face. "If I ever hear anyone, especially you, talk about Tony Stark that way again, I will - I don't know, but it won't be pretty."

Rhodey got to his feet, and said, "I'm glad you're back, Tony. Docs said it would be a few days before they let you fly, they are trying to figure out how you are still amongst the living. I'm going to get some shut-eye." To Naomi, he just nodded, as if they had said everything that needed saying already. Tony knew there would be questions later, but he was relieved that Rhodes left the room closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Nomi."

"Heya, Stark." She sat down in the chair next to him and took his hand. "He wanted to come. He did. He just isn't ready to - you will come home, with me?"

Tony swore as his hand trembled in hers and he tried to pull it away from her, but she held on. "It doesn't matter what happened to you. Damn. That's not what I want to say, I know something happened to you, not just whatever that thing is in your chest - I can't even begin to understand what's going on in your head, but, we want to - you have a home, Tones, and he needs you. God, that sounds weak. For the last three months - he basically locked himself away after my mural was finished, he eats and sleeps when he remembers. You know how he gets."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, kiddo. I know."

Naomi rolled her eyes at him and muttered, "I'm only five years younger than you."

"My lab?"

"I've kept it going, it's got all the latest gadgets. He thinks I'm crazy, thinking you'd ever be back, but then what does he know."

"I hurt him, Nomi."

"He needs to get over himself."

"Nomi."

"No, seriously, you did everything -"

"Everything but show up. I couldn't face him. I was a coward, Naomi. If I had stood in front of him and he decided to walk away -"

"The way you did."

"Yeah. The way I did. I wanted - does he know - damn it hurts." He closed his eyes and felt Naomi's hand hold him to the present, away from the nightmares he could see even when he was wide awake.

"Yeah, Tones. He knows. We both want you to come home, please? Let us take care of you?"

Tony opened his eyes and nodded at her. "Yeah, I'll come home with you. I think it's a mistake, but -"

Naomi smiled gently at him and leaned closer to kiss his forehead. "Rest, I won't leave."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"How is he?"

"Sleeping."

"You know what I mean." Stephen sighed as he dropped onto his bed after another long day of painting, or attempted painting.

"He's a mess. He asked about his lab -"

Stephen sat up. "You think -"

"He wants to come home, Stevie."

Stephen closed his eyes and sighed. "Nomi -"

"He needs you as much as you need him."

"I don't _need_ him. No one _needs_ anyone... really."

"Oh, really?"

He swore to himself as he heard her voice sharpen. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. But you do and he does, and you two are gonna work this out."

"Naomi. When?"

"Looks like two or three days. I'm not going to lie to you. He's - he's in bad shape, Stephen. I know he messed up. So does he, I need you to - I need you to remember him, as he was before. What he meant to you - damn, I'm not good at this, but I know - hell, gotta go."

"Na- damn." Stephen ended the call and started counting the cracks in the ceiling. One day, he'd fix them.

"Tony."

Tony opened his eyes and felt Naomi's arms around him. "What happened?"

"You tried to get out of the bed, you ripped all the lines out - I think - you thought you were still in the cave. You're safe."

"Germany. Right. Sorry. Still sure you want me? I'm not -"

"No, you aren't the same. We're all older, I'm a bit wiser, but I'm not sure about the two of you idiots. You want to talk to him? On the phone?"

"Please?"

"Naomi?"

"No. It's her phone, but it's me."

"Tony," Stephen breathed out his name and wished he'd been strong enough to get on the private plane with Naomi a day earlier. 

"Yeah, what's left of me."

"I miss you," he found himself blurting out, then swore as he heard Tony chuckle lightly.

"Miss you too."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I do. I -" Stephen got up from the bed and walked up to the paintings that still hung on the walls - Tony smiling at him - and sleeping and - "Will you -?"

Tony blinked up at Naomi and whispered, "yeah, Steph. I'm coming home. For good."


	10. Chapter 10

"Nope. Put the chair away."

"Stark."

"I'm walking off the plane, Naomi, he's not going to see me -"

"At least take my arm, then?"

Tony nodded, then bit his lip as he got to his feet, and let out a sigh of relief as Naomi wrapped her arm around him. "We'll go as slow as you want, okay?"

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For being here, for coming. I don't -"

Naomi rolled her eyes and whispered, "Stark. Everyone deserves a second and even a third chance, especially you."

"Nomi -"

"You gave me, gave us so much, and you never really knew. I wouldn't be who I am without you and him -" she looked down at Stephen who was leaning against a cab, then straightened up and walked towards the plane. He stopped at a look from Naomi and waited for them to make their way slowly down the steps.

Naomi handed Tony off to Stephen and watched as the pilot put her bag in the trunk then slipped into the passenger seat of the cab. "Give them a few minutes."

"No sweat. He hired me for the day."

Naomi laughed and shook her head, and tried not to look out her window but failed.

"I -" Tony began, but stopped as Stephen shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"I should have gone with Naomi - to bring you home. I didn't think you'd - I've been an ass."

"No. God - Stephen. I just didn't - when you proposed to me, I thought you were joking, and I was stupid, had one or two too many drinks in me, and I got scared. I didn't think you'd ever - forgive me, Stephen?"

Stephen nodded and wrapped his arms carefully around Tony as he leaned against him. "Let's get you home, hmm?"

"I want to see Nomi's mural first."

"Then home?"

"Yeah, then home." Tony sighed as Stephen kissed his hair, then waited as Stephen took his arm and walked him to the cab, opened the door and watched him get settled, then buckled him in. "Thank you."

"Yeah. You're welcome." Stephen caught Naomi's eye and winked at her, then walked around the cab and got into his seat. As he looked into Tony's eyes, he realized he had forgiven him years ago, but pride had stopped him from admitting it to himself. "Tony -"

"Buckle up, Buttercup."

Stephen's breath caught at Tony's old nickname for him, and he buckled his seat belt, then reached for Tony's hand, and let out a sigh of relief as Tony held on tightly.

Naomi met Stephen's eyes and he nodded, then mouthed, "thank you," as Tony leaned against him and fell asleep.

"Tony."

"Hmmph?"

"We're here."

"Here."

"At the school, you wanted to see Naomi's mural?" Stephen unbuckled his seat belt and looked into Tony's eyes. "Tony."

"I'm okay."

"Tony, it will be here tomorrow."

"I want to see it, Stephen, please, then I'll do whatever you want."

"Still stubborn."

"Yeah, well -" Tony grinned at him, and Stephen reached over and kissed him lightly, then unbuckled Tony's seat belt and sighed as Tony reached up into his curls, and pulled him into a kiss that reminded him of all the time they had lost. 

"Sorry -" Tony whispered.

"No. Nope, you don't ever have to apologize for kissing me."

"Mural."

Stephen nodded, then looked over at Naomi, who had opened Tony's door for him. "I know it's -"

Tony slowly got out of the cab, then leaned against Naomi and they walked a couple of steps, then he turned to look at the wall. "Nomi."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's -"

"What?"

"I remember. You told me I changed things for you. That day, when I met you, you changed my life. I didn't know - you got me home, you and Stephen. When I was in the cave -"

"You don't have to -"

"No, I do. There was someone else with me in the cave. I was about to give up when he asked if I had family back home, if I had something, someone to get back home for. I told him about you and Steph. He didn't - he didn't make it out, but he made sure I did." He looked at the mural again and nodded. "It's good, Nomi. Better than good. It's beautiful."

"Thank you, Stark." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she felt him tremble. "Time to go home?"

"Yeah, home." He eased himself back into the backseat and curled up in Stephen's lap. "Is this okay?"

Stephen placed his hand into Tony's hair and whispered, "yeah, it's more than okay, Tony. We'll be home in a couple minutes."

"Love you. Sorry - I didn't mean - too soon."

"No. I don't mind, Stark. I love - I love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

Stephen unlocked the door to his apartment, and looked over at Tony, who was leaning against the wall. His eyes were closed, and it was clear the flight and cab ride had nearly used up what little resources he possessed, and the climb up the stairs had been too much. He studied the face he had once known better than the back of his own hand, and he took note of how the last five years had changed him physically, but he knew the sharp cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes were a result of what he had been through the last three months.

"Tony."

He opened his eyes and reached over to touch Stephen's face. "It's really you."

"It's me. The place hasn't changed since the last time you were here, well, except for the laptop Naomi badgered me into getting -" He watched as Tony walked into the small apartment, and wondered briefly if he had made a mistake, if it would be too much for them to try to start over when Tony walked over to the paintings, then turned back to look at him.

"You kept them."

"Of course I did." He started to walk over to him, then stopped as Tony slipped the sling from his arm. "Don't you need -?"

Tony shook his head. "It's just to remind me not to use it. Shoulder was dis - you don't want to know all the - damn."

"Let me?" Stephen crossed the room as Tony struggled to remove his jacket. 

"I can do it."

"Stark. Look at me. It's just me. You don't have to prove anything. I -"

"I'm so tired."

"I know." Stephen helped him out of his jacket, then began to work on his buttons, when Tony laid his hand over Stephen's and stopped him. 

"There's something you need to know-"

Stephen laid his hand over Tony's chest and he cleared his throat before he whispered, "Nomi told me."

"When?"

"One night when you were asleep, she tried to explain it to me -"

"You know how Stark Industries is powered by an arc reactor." Stephen nodded, as Tony dropped his arm, allowing Stephen to continue. "They ambushed the humvee I was in, using my own weapons," he chuckled darkly. "I was injured after I left the vehicle, was too close to a warhead when it exploded, and -"

Stephen couldn't help but let out a gasp as he saw the miniature arc reactor in Tony's chest, then he looked into Tony's eyes. "It's beautiful."

"Steph."

"It brought you home. I know you've had a hard time sleeping -"

"She warned you." 

Tony tried to look away, but Stephen touched his face lightly and shook his head. "You were nearly killed, and held in a cave for three months, it's going to take time for you to recover, and I want to be here for you, only if you want me to be."

"She mentioned -"

Stephen sighed. "After I saw the news about you, I threw myself into my work, not much came of it. I couldn't sleep, I only saw -"

"You saw the video," Tony whispered as he leaned against him.

"I know I shouldn't have, but I needed to know you were - I had a dream, it was more of a nightmare, the morning they reported you were missing. Naomi suggested it was possible that you were - dead, but I knew. I knew you weren't. I would've known. I know it sounds crazy, but -"

"No. If that makes you crazy, then - I heard you - there were times when I wanted to give up, but you kept telling me not to -"

"I think we both could use some sleep, hmm?" Stephen lifted Tony into his arms, and holding him gingerly against his chest, carried him to bed. He knelt down next to the bed, and watched as Tony opened his eyes and smiled at him. "You're still you, Tony. You're still the man I love, do you know -"

Tony reached out his hand and wiped away the tear that had slipped down Stephen's cheek. "Will you come over here and hold me?"

"Yeah. Of course I will."

Stephen slipped into bed and sighed heavily as Tony settled against his shoulder. Stephen kissed his hair and breathed in his scent as he allowed himself to close his eyes for the first time since he knew Tony was on his way home. He still smelled vaguely of the hospital, but underneath that, he knew it was Tony in his arms, and he swore to himself that if he could do anything about it, Tony wouldn't leave him again.

"Tony?"

"Nomi. Coffee?"

"Sure. Stephen -"

"Still asleep."

Naomi studied her friend's face as she accepted the coffee with cream and two sugar packets. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Think I got about an hour, or two. Forgot where I was."

"What's wrong besides everything?"

Tony tried smiling at her, but knew she knew him too well. "I'm too much - it's too much. For him."

"What is?"

"He wants to fix me."

"No, he doesn't. He just wants to be able to be with you."

"I'm not who I was, even before what happened in Afghanistan."

"He knows that. I know that." She sipped at her coffee and closed her eyes. "You still make the best coffee, Stark."

"I love him, Nomi, I don't want him to end up really hating me."

"He didn't hate you when he hated you." Tony laughed, then grinned at her. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. He always saw the better part of me."

"Give him a chance, Tones. He wants to know you again." She put her mug down on the bar. "You saw that he never took down your paintings."

Tony nodded.

"He knows you aren't him anymore, but he wanted - wants to be the person who knows you - he's not the same person either, but he still - damn. It's not - "

"In a couple of days, will you meet me at the lab?"

"Tony."

"When he needs to work things out, he paints. I need to tinker, and update this thing." He tapped his chest and looked away from her. "Thank you for letting him know. I wasn't sure how to tell him. He took it rather well, better than I expected. I should go back up there before he wakes up."

"Let him -"

Tony nodded then walked out from behind the bar and kissed her cheek. "I do love him, Nomi. More than I've loved anyone, I know that doesn't mean much if you look at my track record, but - I don't want to hurt him again."

"Just -" She stopped and shook her head. "Love you."

"Yeah, love you too."

"Need help?"

"Nope, I got it." He kissed her forehead, then looked into her eyes. "Thank you."

"Yeah. Dinner tonight?"

"Of course." He turned and made for the stairs and she held her breath as she watched him make his way carefully back up to Stephen's studio.


	12. Chapter 12

"Is that coffee?"

"Uhmhmm." Tony said as Stephen opened his eyes slowly, then sat up to take the coffee from his hands.

"Mmmm... I've missed your coffee."

Tony grinned at him, then smothered a yawn.

"How long have you been up?"

"Long enough."

Stephen nodded.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Sure."

"I got about an hour of sleep. It's going to take some time - you know I wasn't great at sleeping before. It's gotten worse as I've aged."

"I know."

Tony sighed and looked at his hands, and swore as they shook. Stephen put his mug on the bedside table and moved to the edge of the bed, taking Tony's hands into his own. "I know it's going to take time for you to trust me."

"It isn't you," Tony said quietly.

"It's partly me. I know you wonder, hell, I don't even know if this is going to work, you and me, this. I don't want to pressure you, I know you have your own way of dealing with things. I just don't want you to go through this on your own. Will you give me some time?"

Tony blinked into Stephen's ever-changing eyes and squeezed his fingers, then leaned in and kissed him cautiously at first, then relaxed against him, and remembered what it was like to be kissed by him for the first time. Stephen let go of his hands and his fingers found their way into Stephen's curls, just as soft as they had been the last time he had touched them. He heard a whimper, and wasn't sure where it had come from, but couldn't let him go. "Buttercup. Damn, I've missed you."

Stephen drew back and laughed. Tony opened his eyes and looked into Stephen's delighted face, older now, but there was something in the twinkle of his eyes that was exactly the same. "I've changed my mind."

"About?" Stephen asked as he kept his gaze square on him.

"The walk. I just - can we just be here, lay here together - and you can tell me whatever you want to tell me, while I fall asleep. I do, trust you, Steph. I know you are taking a chance, both you and Nomi, I do want to be here -"

Stephen kissed him again, then helped him into bed and draped himself carefully around him, keeping him safely grounded in that moment. "Rest, Stark. I'm here." He ran his fingers through Tony's hair, and began telling him every little thing he had wanted him to know, and didn't stop even though he could hear him snore. He continued until he talked himself hoarse, and the light that came through his windows had changed. He held Tony tighter in his arms as the thunder rolled, and the rains began to fall. "I'm here, Tony. I won't let you go."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short bit of explicitude.

Tony trembled in his arms as the storm seemed to crackle directly above the old building."It's just a storm," Stephen repeated. "You're safe, Stark. You're in New York, we brought you home..." 

His words trailed off as Tony lifted a hand to his face and whispered, "Steph?" His voice sounded small, so different from the brash, booming tone he had come to love.

He ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair, and wished he could take away the nightmares that had followed him as he slept. "Yep. It's me."

Tony lifted a hand and placed it lightly on Stephen's angular face. The angles were sharper than he remembered, and his jaw was held tightly. He opened his eyes and asked, "how long did I sleep?"

"Four hours."

"You must be bored."

Stephen shook his head. "No, you could never bore me. It's been over five years since I got to hold you, and I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again, ever get a chance..." He groaned softly as Tony shifted just enough so he could nuzzle his neck, then kiss the freckles that were scattered over his shoulders, like so many stars. "Tony."

"Too much?" Tony mumbled as his hand settled over Stephen's hip.

"No. Just been a long time. There hasn't been anyone, I've never - not with anyone else since I met you. I didn't want anyone else, but you."

Tony sighed and slowly sat up against the headboard and looked down at his hands in silence for a moment. "I know what you must think -"

"No. You don't."

"You must have seen the tabloids, the headlines - none of it was real. I need you to know, I know you don't have any reason to believe me -"

"I do."

Tony blinked at him. "How? I -"

"You've never lied to me. Not once. Are you hungry?"

Tony shook his head. "Can you just, touch me, Stephen? I need to know -"

Stephen nodded and carefully straddled his legs, then cradled his face in his hands and kissed him until he felt Tony's hands in his hair, tugging just enough to remind him that this was real, and all he could do was whimper out, "Tony..."

"Stephen, please? I'm still here, I'm - I just need - I need you to -" he let out a moan as Stephen's fingers were lightly dancing over his nipples, reminding him that he had survived, but more than that, he was still loved, still so very necessary to the man who touched him. Stephen's hands slowly brought him back, away from the darkness and pain of the cave, and to this small room, that smelled of turpentine, paint and well-brewed coffee. He shivered as Stephen kissed him once more as his fingers wrapped around his cock and he touched him as if he were twenty-one again, not the man who had been so badly broken by indecision and three months in an Afghanistan cave. "Stephen..."

"You're home, Stark. Open your eyes, and look at me."

"Stephen." He opened his eyes and the love he saw in Stephen's eyes pushed him over the edge, and all he could do was lean forward and let himself be saved once again, as tears streamed down his face.


	14. Chapter 14

"Don't move. Just for one more minute?" Tony asked quietly, as Stephen started to stir. The storm had finally passed, and the silence was broken only by their breathing and the noise of the traffic outside. He stilled and he heard the last quick strokes hit the paper then stop. "Done. Sorry, just wanted to, you're so beautiful when you sleep." Stephen blinked at him as he sat in a chair next to the bed, with one of his sketchpads and a stick of charcoal. He hadn't bothered to dress except to toss on an old dressing gown that had seen better days, but it still fit him. Stephen realized Tony was nearly the same size he was back when he first knew him, except he was all muscle now, though not by choice. "I slept. I've only been up for an hour -"

"What is it?"

Tony snorted and laid the charcoal and pad aside. "Never could hide anything from you. I'm just working something out in my head, helps to draw it sometimes. I'll show you after dinner? Nomi just fired up the grill downstairs, we've got time still."

"Damn. You must be hungry. I'm sorry -" Stephen got out of bed and looked down at the scattered drawings on the floor, then leaned down to pick up one of them. "Is this how -"

"Yeah. He wasn't pretty, but he was effective. I promise, I'll tell you everything, Stephen. For tonight, I just want, can we just -"

Stephen nodded and dropped the sketch, then picked up the sketchpad and looked at the drawing of himself. "No one's ever drawn me before."

"I wanted to show you, just how beautiful you are. How beautiful you've always been."

"Bath?" Stephen whispered, as he helped Tony from the chair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm so glad you made it home, Tony."

"Me too, Buttercup, me too."

The old claw-foot tub was the main draw of the small living quarters, when Stephen had moved in when he was sixteen, and he and Tony had spent many hours in it over the years. He was trying not to remember the last time they had used it when he felt Tony's arms wrap around him, and the images in his mind paused mid-frame.

"I'm sorry." 

Stephen sighed and shook his head. "It was my fault."

"How?"

"I wanted you to stay. I thought if I asked you to marry me - you'd finally get it, I wasn't sure you really knew -"

"Of course I knew, I always knew. I've always regretted leaving after those two months, I just thought - no. I didn't think. I _knew_ if I had stayed, you would come to hate what your life would become, you'd come to hate me. I knew one day they'd find where I was, and the life we had back then wouldn't have been possible. I regretted each time I left you afterwards, and when you asked me to marry you - I believed if I - if I could make you hate me - I wanted you to forget me, Steph, and I regretted _that_ the minute I got back on the plane. You didn't deserve that, I don't deserve -"

Stephen eased him onto a chair and turned on the taps, added the bath oil, and lit the candles. "Deserve," he muttered mostly to himself, then turned back to look at Tony, and watched breathlessly as he stood, then slipped the robe from his shoulders, and draped it over the chair. There was nothing more he could think to say, so he chose to say nothing, but stepped into the tub, then settled into the water before he offered Tony his hand. He hesitated for a split second, then shook his head as he walked over to the tub, and taking Stephen's hand, slipped carefully into the water and sighed as he leaned against Stephen's chest, then closed his eyes as Stephen's arms and legs slowly wrapped around him, helping him to finally begin to forget the regrets of the past.


	15. Chapter 15

Naomi smiled to herself as she heard them arguing as they made their way down the stairs, as they used to, and she found herself remembering the first time she had met Stephen Strange. She had been six, he was barely sixteen and had just arrived from wherever he had come from, she had asked him once, then somehow knew not to ask again.

"Who're you?"

"No one."

"You aren't from around here."

"Nope."

"Got a name?"

"Stephen Strange."

"No way."

"Way."

She had laughed and got up from the steps of her building. "You want to see something cool?"

He had looked at her and nodded, and she had been mesmerized by how his eyes seemed to change colors for a moment before she took him by the hand and through the alleys that led to the mural. She had always considered it, _him_ hers, but for some reason she knew this odd looking white dude in the wrong part of town needed to see it, and she hadn't been wrong.

She watched his face change, then he slowly went to his knees. She had never seen anyone do that outside of church and she was wondering what to do next when he got to his feet and stared up at the painting, then turned to her and asked her quietly, "what's your name?"

"Naomi, but people call me Nomi. You can call me Nomi."

"Nomi. Thank you for this. I wasn't sure if I had done the right thing by coming here, I mean, to New York, but now I know. Do you know what I mean?"

She had nodded, because she wanted to seem older, but it had taken years for her to truly understand. What she had known even then, was that he was going to change her life, she just hadn't known how much. Over the years, he had gone from being the one who needed leading, to becoming her teacher and mentor, and for the last ten years, he had been her boss, but more than that, he had been her friend and confidant. Before she had told her parents, or anyone else, when she realized at twenty-two that she was bi, she had blurted it out to him without a thought, then dropped her paintbrush, and covered her face with her hands. When she was brave enough to look up again, she found him smiling gently at her. 

"I didn't mean to -"

"You haven't told anyone else."

"No." She had shaken her head and he had opened his arms to her. She walked into them and wept against his chest, out of sheer relief more than anything else, and she knew from that day on she had someone she would go to the ends of the world for. In bringing Tony back to him, she had done just that. 

She walked out of the kitchen and looked at the two of them at their table. It was a Saturday night, so they couldn't afford to close, but more than that, anything out of the ordinary would have the rumors flying that Tony Stark was back. As she watched Tony reach across the table for Stephen's hands, she turned back into the kitchen to give them privacy and hoped that for Stephen's sake, she had done the right thing by bringing Tony home.

"Burgers up!"

Stephen grinned at her as she placed his overflowing platter in front of him and dropped onto the seat next to him, then stole a fry. "I'm fine. We're fine."

"Just fine?"

She watched with a smirk as he blushed, and muttered under his breath, "better than fine."

"Yeah? Because if -"

"Nomi." She looked around for Tony who never missed a meal, but especially cheeseburgers, and raised a curious eyebrow at Stephen. "Restroom."

"You'll tell me -"

Stephen put down his burger and looked at her. "We'll be okay, Nomi."

"Stevie."

He kissed her cheek and smiled at her, the way he had that day almost ten years earlier. "Love you."

"Yeah. Okay. About tonight."

"Business as usual. Call me down here if it gets too busy."

"Danny -" Why she brought him up at that moment, she didn't know, and she wished she could take it back, but for some reason, his ghost seemed to be hovering more that day than it had been in the two years since his death.

Stephen nodded. "Danny always thought -"

"Danny always thought you could do better than me," Tony said as he slipped into the seat across from them, then let out a groan as he picked up his burger, and grinned at Nomi before he took a bite. She laughed as his face went through the same journey as it always did, and she reached for his hand. He squeezed her hand lightly and as she met his eyes, she saw what Stephen had seen. Tony wanted to come home, he was still trying to convince himself that he still had a home to come home to.

She squeezed his hand, and said quietly, "welcome home, Stark," then got up from the table, kissed his cheek, and went back into the kitchen to start the prep work for another Saturday night.

"She doesn't usually forgive so easily," Tony said as he pushed his empty plate away.

"She forgave you long before I did. She's been trying for years to get me to fly out to see you. I always had an excuse, she always knew it for what it was. She's always loved you, you were the one who saved her painting."

"I never said anything -"

"I told her."

"Why?"

"She needed to know. It would have taken years if I had done it on my own, there wouldn't have been anything left to save, but you got the right people in that week, and -"

"What?" Tony asked quietly.

"I never really thanked you."

"I knew what it meant to you, and I knew -"

Stephen studied his face and waited.

"I knew if I never did anything else good in my life, even if no one besides you knew, I had done that for you. It was the first thing I ever did for someone else, just because I - I did it because I loved you. I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have kept coming back and leaving you - I just -" Tony looked down at his hands, then shook his head as Stephen leaned forward and kissed him, then sat back and held his hands lightly in his. 

"You're home now, that's all that matters. Naomi told you about the lab."

Tony nodded.

"Do you want to see it?"

Tony shook his head. "I just want you."

"You got me."

"For how long?" Stephen bit his lip at the game they had played in the past.

"For always and forever, Tony. Always and forever." He helped Tony up from the table then walked him back upstairs and closed the studio door behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

Tony finished his story and waited. To Stephen's credit, he hadn't interrupted or made any obvious noises of disbelief, which surprised him. It was the first time he had told anyone how he had escaped from the cave and it sounded unreal to his own ears.

"You built a suit of armor from the weapons cache they had somehow bought or stole from SI, and you blasted - flew out of the camp far enough for Rhodes to find you in the desert."

"I know it sounds -"

"If anyone else tried to sell that story but you -" Stephen shook his head and took another look at the sketches Tony had shown him. "What I don't understand is what you want to do now?"

"Now?" Tony asked with a smirk and Stephen rolled his eyes.

"I mean now as in the next few weeks or months. These drawings -"

"There has to be a reason I made it home, Steph. I don't believe in fate, or whatever you want to call it, and if karma had anything to do with it, Yinsen would have been the one to make it out, he would have known what to do. I realized when I was in Afghanistan, that what I had been doing, by continuing my father's work wasn't saving lives, it was just adding to the misery of people I don't have any argument with - my legacy - _legacy_. Before, I hadn't given a thought to what other people thought about me, about what I had done with my life. If I had died in Afghanistan, I would have been remembered as an arms dealer who got what he deserved. And I would have deserved it. If I could just forget what I saw, what they -" He looked at the drawings, then at his hands. "I can do more, Steph. I could be -"

"You are just one man, Stark, a brilliant, gifted man with the resources to do anything, for good and for ill. But to do this, to become..." He picked up a drawing of a metal man in flight. "To become this, what are you willing to give up? I can't honestly say I understand, I wasn't held in that cave and tortured, you were. But I know you. I know what it would do to you if something went wrong, even if you were acting in good faith. Human beings invented war and hatred long before even your father started creating weapons of mass destruction. Long before he was even born. It isn't your fault the world is the way it is. You know that, don't you?"

"Logically, yes, of course, I know it. I don't even know if I can build him -"

Stephen snorted and cradled Tony's face in his hands, and looked into the deep brown eyes he loved. "If you can imagine him - I know it's only a matter of time before he becomes a reality. I'm already calling it a him. I know you aren't crazy, well, you are here with me, when you could be anywhere with anyone, so maybe I'm wrong about that, but I get it. I do. It's just, I just got you back, and I don't know what - damn. I don't want to lose you again. I'm being selfish."

"No. You aren't." Tony sighed as he leaned into Stephen's touch and closed his eyes. "I'm asking too much of you -"

"Tony. Whatever you need to do, whatever you need from me - I'm here, for you, for whatever comes next."

Tony opened his eyes and saw the truth of Stephen's words in his face. "I love you, Buttercup."

"Yeah, I know, Stark." He leaned in closer until their foreheads met, and sighed as Tony's fingers settled into his hair and tugged ever so slightly. "I love you, too." He groaned as he could hear the sounds of a typical Saturday night, and knew he was needed downstairs, even before he heard the hesitant knock at his door.

"Strange. Getting our asses kicked down here, a little help?"

"Yeah. I'll be down in a minute."

"Sorry."

Stephen kissed Tony's forehead, then got up and walked to the door. "Remember the nights when we had to close early because we didn't have enough business, hmm? This is good, yeah?"

"Yeah, I know. It's just -"

"Can I help?"

Naomi blinked at Tony, then walked into the room and ruffled his hair. "I love you, Stark, but -"

"You think just because I'm a billionaire I don't know how to work in a bar?"

"Yeah, that and I'd think you'd want to stay off the radar for a while, hmm? Don't worry, though, stick around long enough and I'll have you behind the bar before too long." She walked back out of the studio in a better mood than when she had entered.

Stephen caught the look in Tony's eyes and smiled at him. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, love you."

"Yeah, I know." He gave him a wink, then got up from the bed and stalked over to him, then kissed him hard and pulled away with a smile. "Love you, too. I'll be here when you get back."

"Sorry if I interrupted -" Naomi said as she lined up a row of shot glasses and started pouring them out.

"You didn't." Stephen mumbled before he grabbed a rag and a bus tub and headed for the table that had just cleared out.

"Stephen." 

"He's staying Nomi, he is staying this time."

Naomi watched as Stephen cleared the table and wiped it down, then reset it and smiled a greeting to a group of regulars and took their drink orders. 

"Four pints, they are going to want burgers, their orders haven't changed in five years. We'll talk later, I promise, just trust me, okay?"

She nodded, then pulled the pints and delivered them to the table.

"Hey, Naomi."

"Heya, fellas, what can I get for you?"

"Just the regular," one of them answered, "as always. What's up with Steph? Haven't seen him smile like that in a long time."

"Just got some good news, you know how he is -"

"Good for him, tell 'im I said so?"

"Will do," she smiled back and watched as Stephen was making the rounds. He did seem to be in a better mood, as he laughed with a tabletop full of ladies. She hadn't seen him this happy in years, and she once again thought of Tony, and hoped that he wouldn't break his heart again.

"Naomi?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay, sweetie?" One of their regulars asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

"Yeah, just a long week. Sorry. How is everyone doing? Need any refills?"

Naomi breathed out a sigh of relief as she watched Stephen bid a friendly farewell to the last stragglers, then lock the door behind them and turn off the lights. He walked over to the bar, and as he collapsed onto a stool, he flipped on the news from habit and swore under his breath. "Damn it."

"Steph?"

_"Top News Story... Tony Stark rescued from the desert, 'needs time out of the spotlight as he recovers from injuries he sustained while in captivity,' future of Stark Industries in question as Stark is unavailable for comment."_

Stephen muted the television, then picked up the phone that sat on the bar, and angrily punched in a number. "Rhodes? What the hell?"

"Look, Stephen, you knew, he knew, what would happen when he returned. He's better off with you in New York, I've always felt that way. I'll do my best to keep the vultures away, just take care of him?"

"Yeah, I will. We will."

"Tell Naomi - I know how much it meant to him that she was there when he woke up, thank her for me?"

"I will, and thanks, Rhodey, for finding him."

"He made it out of there because of you, you know that. Without you, he would have given up."

"James. He made it out because -"

"Stephen. Listen to me, I know how the press made it seem - but it's always been you. He acted the way he did to keep the press away from you, he never - there's never been anyone but you."

"Rhodey."

"Just love him."

"I will. I do."

"I know."

"Hey."

"What is it?" Tony asked as he put his drawings aside.

"Just talked to Rhodes -"

"Vultures know I'm back."

"They think you are in California."

"Steph -"

"He told me -"

"Hell."

"I always knew."

Tony shook his head. "I acted the way I did so no one would get too close, and I didn't want anyone else but you. I left the best parts of myself here when I left you. No matter what happens, Steph, I'm not leaving you to go back to that life, I need you to know that."

Stephen nodded and kissed him slow and sweet, then settled him against his shoulder, and whispered, "I know, just rest and we'll begin tomorrow. I promise, Stark, I'm here no matter what."


	17. Chapter 17

Tony muted the television when Naomi walked through the door and hung up her coat. He looked over at her, then walked behind the bar and poured her a cup of coffee, then placed a coaster in front of her and put the coffee down. "I'm a quick study."

"I know."

"Talk to me?"

She took the offered cream from him added it to her coffee, then dumped in the required sugar and stirred it thoughtfully for a moment before she spoke. "Last night. I haven't seen him that happy in years. He believes -"

"I'm staying, Nomi."

"What about that?" She nodded up at the screen as the talking heads were babbling on, probably about the coming crash of the SI stock. "He won't survive it if you leave again. You can't -"

"He's upstairs painting right now. Stretched a new canvas at three this morning. Big one. I saw the look in his eyes when he finally looked up at me, something new, he said. Tossed me out when he started painting. I know you love him, Nomi. I made him a promise last night, that I am not leaving him, I'm not leaving the two of you to go back to that." He pointed up at the screen with the remote and turned it off. 

"But you are planning something, something that could -"

"You said the lab was updated?" She nodded. "I need an assistant, I would have asked him, but you know how he is when he's painting, and I'm not sure -."

"He's pretty damn useless," Naomi agreed, then smiled over at him.

"Are you busy this morning?"

"I am now. Just promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Think of us, _think of him_ before you do anything, I dunno, crazy? Damn. I'm sorry, Stark. I'm not being fair. And yeah, I do love him. He's the best person I know, and it's been so long since he's been happy. You make him happy. And I love you, too. Not just for the mural, or because you helped to make the life I have possible. You are a decent person, Stark, I know that, and I just want - I want my family to be happy, you are a big part of that family. Yeah, I have sisters and nieces and nephews, but the two of you - you are the family I chose. A long time ago, the two of you chose me - and I chose to believe in the two of you. Still do." She picked up her coffee and tried not to let him see her face. He waited until she put the half-finished coffee down before he laid his hand over hers and squeezed it as she had squeezed his when he woke up in Germany. 

"You and Stephen are my family, Nomi. I've wanted to come back for so long, but always found an excuse not to. Mostly, I've been a coward. I'm not afraid anymore. When I opened my eyes and saw you in Germany, saw that you were still my friend even after everything, I knew - I'm sorry, Nomi." She turned towards him and held onto him tightly for a moment, then cleared her throat and pulled away.

"You ready to see your new lab?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

Tony smiled as the room sprang to life when Naomi asked for the lights of the warehouse to be turned on, and as she had promised, it was as current as his workshop had been in Malibu, even more so. He turned to her and smiled, then spoke to the room. "Friday?"

"Boss?"

"Nice to hear your voice."

"And yours. How may I help you today?"

"Thank you, Naomi, it's nice to be home."

She grinned at him, then studied the drawings he had spread over the light table, and looked up at him with astonishment. He had managed to surprise her for the first time, and he couldn't help but smile as she whispered in awe, "Tony? Is that how you made it out of there?"

"Yep."

"You want me to help you to make that again?"

Tony shook his head. "No, first I need to upgrade this thing in my chest, and then," He pulled out the latest version from the pile of drawings and placed it on top. "We're going to make this."

Naomi let out a low whistle, then looked across the table into Tony's eyes and crossed her arms. "If you do this. I want in."

"Nomi."

"If you want my help, I'm all the way in, from the beginning, and not just because it's cool as hell. Which it is. It's brilliant. You need someone who will have your back, and not just as a sidekick."

"Sidekick? Nomi. You'll never be anyone's sidekick."

"Good. Do we have a deal?"

Tony knew she was right, and he saw the fire in her eyes. She wanted this, maybe even more than he did, and she understood why he needed to do this, without even asking him why, she just got it. He put out his hand and grinned at her as she took it and held on tightly. "Deal. Now. Friday, we are ready to begin."


	18. Chapter 18

Stephen was making an order for food when Naomi returned to the bar. "How does he like the lab?"

"Stephen. He's - I didn't really know, he's -" she grinned up at him, and he sighed.

"He showed you the drawings, he told you."

Naomi sat at the bar and watched him carefully, before she nodded. 

"And you're helping him."

"He - I offered, I'm not an engineer, but, maybe I can -"

"You know what he wants to do with him - it. He told you how he got out of the cave, and you want to be that. You think if you -" He shook his head, then focused on the paperwork in front of him for a moment, and collected his thoughts. "You want to save the world, your world. Don't you know you already do that? With your art, your students? Even this place - I know it seems small in comparison to what he could do -"

"I'm not a kid anymore." Naomi crossed her arms and glared at him.

"No. You're not. And I know why he needs to do this, he's learned things about himself, and he feels like he needs to prove something. You don't have anything to prove, Nomi. To anyone."

She relaxed her shoulders and looked into his face, and saw the boy he had been when they had met. "You know how sometimes you get this idea for a painting, so real you can almost touch it, but when you get the canvas stretched and primed, and you have the brush in your hand, you realize what you will put on the canvas will never match what you can see in your mind, before you even put the first color down?"

"You know I do."

"I watched him today, he took the drawing of the new reactor and made it real. It was like watching you when you are in your zone; he was talking me through what he was thinking when he was in the cave as he built it, he was remaking the thing that keeps his heart going and talking about you, us. He trusted me to take out the old one, and put in the new device, I was afraid of doing it wrong, and he could see it in my face, but he couldn't do it by himself, and he knew I could do it. I was holding his heart in my hands, Stevie. I know it sounds ridiculous, but -"

"Yeah, Nomi, I know. You've been doing that for me for years."

Naomi smiled gently at him and cleared her throat. "I'm not going anywhere, Stevie."

He reached out and laid his hand on hers and nodded. "Yeah, I know. But you know, this will change everything. Maybe not at first, but eventually, once he builds - him, I can't think of it as anything but a 'him', life as we know it will be altered. You just need to prepare yourself for that, especially if you -"

"He needs someone -"

"Just be careful, Naomi, just remember you are already a hero without ever putting on a suit. So is he, he just doesn't know it." He sighed as her face changed, and shook his head. "I get it. I do. You know how I am, I hate flying, remember, I took a train to get to California and then home again, took me days. But you, the two of you, you are fearless, or at least you don't let fear stop you. I'm not like that."

Naomi whispered, as she squeezed his fingers, "You are so much braver than you think, to love the way you do, Stevie. I'll drop the order off, and then I'll be back to -"

"Go help him, it's Sunday. It'll be dead tonight."

"Strange."

"You might remind him he does need to sleep and eat? Let him know I'll be here when he needs... I'll be upstairs painting, if he -"

"Love you."

"Yeah, Nomi, love you too."


	19. Chapter 19

"Hey."

Stephen grunted at him from behind his easel, then looked up to see the exhaustion in his eyes. It was different from when he had fainted at his door so long ago, and it wasn't what he saw before he curled up in his lap in the cab after he had returned from Afghanistan. Something had changed, he had something he needed to do, and had worked it all out, in his head, at any rate. But he needed -

He returned his glare to the canvas one last time and nodded, then walked towards him, stopping as Tony raised his hand to wipe at a smear of paint on his cheek. He didn't want to talk, neither of them did, so they didn't. Tomorrow, tomorrow they could hash it out. Tonight - technically it was Monday morning, just barely, and he kissed his forehead, then lifted his chin to look into his eyes, the dark, sparkling eyes that knew so much, but he could see he still was unsure, and Stephen guessed he would always be uncertain that he was loved, and needed. Damn. He shook his head, then lifted him into his arms and carried him to bed.

As he slowly undressed him, he wanted more than anything to remove the doubt from those eyes that were watching him, but as much as he wished to believe in what they were, what they could be, he knew it was a matter of time before - he shivered as Tony rolled them and smiled down at him in the careful way he had, asking him without a word what he wanted from him.

"Everything, Tony. I want -"

He nodded and his first kiss took his breath away, as his hands, the most capable hands trembled slightly as he worked on his buttons of his shirt, and he closed his eyes, then arched up as the calloused fingers lightly ran over him, and his mind fizzled to a stop. If he could, he would exist on sensation alone, if it meant he could have this for the rest of his life. He pulled him into a long, heated kiss, and he hoped he understood, that he would always be there, no matter what came next.

"I know, Steph, I know," he whispered, after he caught his breath. "Look at me, Buttercup."

Stephen opened his eyes and reached out his hand. He held his breath as his fingers lightly traced the scars that traveled across his chest, and as the anger began to build up in him, for what had been done to the man he had loved for so long, he finally completely understood. Tony kissed away the tears that streamed down his cheeks, then settled against his shoulder and closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"What for?" Stephen asked quietly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"For being my safe place, you've been that since the day we met." 

Stephen kissed his hair, and held onto him as they both drifted off to sleep.

"It's not -" he stopped and bit his lip.

"What?" Tony asked as he stared into his coffee. "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say, 'it's not that I don't get it,' because I do, I do. I know that you need to do this, and I know why, and she - well, Naomi wants to make sure you don't kill yourself in the process."

"She told me that yesterday," Tony laughed, then looked up at him. "She has ideas - she's not an engineer, but she has an instinct for design - she's brilliant." He stopped smiling as he saw the look in Stephen's eyes.

"You are important to her."

"I know, Steph, and she's the sister I never had. It's going to take time to build him, there are things I have to work out, right now it's just something for my brain to work on, to tinker with. There's so much I can teach her - it's going to take months, and you know, you do know, I'm not going -"

"Yeah, I know." He nodded, then his eyes dropped to study the stack of mail that needed to be dealt with.

"No. You don't know." He put down his mug and stared up at him, then shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a ring. "Yesterday, after I rebuilt the reactor, I spent the rest of the day making this, it was why I got back here so late. I realized I couldn't really just pop into a jewelry store -" He sighed as he watched Stephen's eyes change color, they had gone from a sea green to the brightest blue he had ever seen and he wondered if he'd blown it again. "Steph. Talk to me? I -"

Stephen reached out and took the ring from his fingers, then slipped it on his hand and leaned over to kiss him before mumbling, "upstairs. Now, please."


	20. Chapter 20

Tony watched as he played with the ring on his finger and wondered why he hadn't asked what it meant. Would he still want everything that ring signified or had he lost his chance when he walked out that night? Five years seemed so long ago, and yet at times it still felt like only yesterday. He held his breath as Stephen turned to look at him, and was reminded of the look in his eyes - the pain he had caused him - how -?

"I don't know." The green eyes flashed at him, then he gave a half-hearted shrug before rolling onto his side. "I don't forgive easily, and I - I've rarely had reason to put my trust in people. Danny, and Nomi, you - you were a surprise. No, you were a shock to my system, and I've never been able to make the necessary adjustments, suppose I haven't ever really tried." He looked at the ring on his hand for a long moment in silence, and smiled at the unasked question he saw in Tony's eyes. "One day, when you are ready, when we are both ready - it's enough to know that you - that you understand what it means that you would make this for me. I know it's silly to want something like this, but, it's a promise, your promise to me, and it's enough."

"Is it?" Tony asked quietly, then reached over to play with a curl that was slowly turning silver and twirled it around his finger. "I want - damn. I know. No. I don't know - I honestly - damn. You are beautiful. And I want to deserve you, deserve this - I wish it hadn't taken -" his words faltered as Stephen pulled him carefully into his arms and kissed his hair.

"I don't want to spend another moment wishing for the time we lost, you are here now, and that is what matters. Honestly? I don't want to think about what could happen tomorrow or next week or next year, I just want to be here, with you, now. Can we try that?"

Tony nodded against his chest, and relaxed in his arms as he mumbled, "I'd like that." For a brief moment, he let himself consider if he was keeping him from his work, then realized if he needed to paint, he would be painting, instead of -

"Listen to me, spending time with you is not a waste of my time, never has been. Thought you might have realized that by now, genius that you are."

Tony laughed, then rumbled out softly, "I would've thought you might have realized by now, when it comes to people, genius I am not."

"Guess we'll learn together, then, hmm?" Stephen replied then offered him a grin as Tony kissed his shoulder then drew back to look into his eyes.

"Together."


	21. Chapter 21

"Steph. Wake up, Buttercup. I'm right here." Tony's words finally broke through as his hands wiped tears from his cheeks. "I'm here."

"Tony? Damn. It was so real."

"I know." He brushed the damp curls from his face and waited for him catch his breath again, then leaned closer until his lips pressed lightly against Stephen's forehead. He sighed as Stephen slowly brought his arms around him then held on as if he was afraid he'd fly away from him, if he didn't hold him tightly enough. "I'm here."

Stephen held on for a few minutes, then slowly relaxed his grip and withdrew from him. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"I don't know, I just thought someone should apologize to you." He laid his long fingers on his face and studied him carefully. "I don't know that I would have been strong enough, if our places had been reversed."

Tony blinked at him, then kissed him hard, as if he could erase the dreams they couldn't stop seeing, by passion alone. He whimpered as Stephen's fingers were in his hair, pulling him closer. "I had to get back, Stephen, I had to get back to you, I needed to know - I needed to tell you..." He tried to hold everything together, as he had since the moment he'd opened his eyes in Germany, but Stephen's quiet apology and gentle hands undid him completely, and soon he was a sobbing mess in his arms. "Damn."

"You are allowed, you know," Stephen whispered. 

"I can't. I have things - I have to -" he stumbled over his words as Stephen carefully threaded their fingers together, then lightly kissed his slowly healing knuckles. "Buttercup."

"Today, we are going to do nothing, except eat when we're hungry, and talk when you want to, but mostly, we are going to -" Tony interrupted his train of thought as his fingers found the old familiar landmarks and he watched as Stephen's eyes rolled back and he collapsed into the pillows. When he recovered his breath again, he grinned at him sheepishly. "You always did know how to end a discussion." He reached out again and ruffled his hair, then got out of bed and began to dress. "Sorry. I didn't mean - I know you have things you need to work out on your own, and I have a commission to start, should've started it months ago - not your fault - I've just been - computers, and the younger generation are beginning to make me a bit obsolete - I need coffee -"

"Steph. Stop." 

"No. You just spent three months forced to do what people told you to do - and I -"

"Stephen."

"I just need coffee and -" he finished dressing then grinning before he kissed him, strode quickly over to the door. "I'll be right back."

"Strange. Please, stop and listen to me." He groaned as Stephen opened the door and was about to walk out. _"Just, stop?"_ He blew out a sigh of relief as Stephen closed the door again, then leaned against it and finally met his gaze. "I'd like nothing more than to spend all day in bed with you."

"But?"

"No buts. Please, come back to bed?"

Stephen nodded, and began to undress again.

"Slow down."

"Stark."

"Do you know how many times I dreamed of you? Every time I managed to sleep long enough, there you were next to me, and when I opened my eyes, you were gone. The memory of -" his words faltered as Stephen slipped into the bed again and carefully settled Tony against his shoulder, and they both understood words weren't needed as they reminded each other of what had nearly been lost.

Tony stopped short as he heard Naomi chatting away at Friday.

"I didn't want him to know how worried I was," she muttered as she worked on a sketch. "I wanted to believe that he would be okay, but - I had days when it was difficult."

"Understandable, Ms. Naomi."

She chuckled under her breath as she flipped over to a new page and stared at the blank page for a moment, then. "How do you understand? You are -"

"I am an artificial intelligence."

"A robot, basically."

"Essentially, yes."

"Then how - no, never mind. Don't need to know, Fri. Thanks for listening."

"That is what I am here for."

Tony counted to sixty, before he entered the room, though he knew Friday had already sensed his presence. "Mornin'."

Naomi spun around to face him and dropped her sketch pad on the worktable. "Tell me everything. No, not everything, just, what happened when you gave him the ring, you did give him the ring, you didn't chicken out did you?" She covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head at the smile on his face.

"You were right."

She dropped her hands and crossed her arms at him. "Of course I was. Right about what, exactly?"

"He needed something tangible to prove to him I wasn't going anywhere. He's spent the last fifteen years wondering if I feel the same way he does. It's going to take some time, but one day, he'll believe in me. You weren't worried -"

She grinned at him as she got to her feet and walked over to him. "No. When it was clear both your phones were off, I got the hint. I'm just messing around on some ideas, it's nice and quiet here, and Friday is a good listener."

Tony nodded then asked quietly, "Yeah, she is. Can I buy you some breakfast? That pancake place still around?"

"Yeah, but - are you sure, I mean, people might recognize you -"

"I bet I'm old news already, doesn't matter, I'm done hiding out."

"Tony."

"Nomi, I'm home, and I want some pancakes, okay?"

She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. "Yeah, yeah, okay, pancakes it is, let's go. He's working?"

"Yeah -"

"Won't let you see?"

"Won't let me see."

"A good sign," she muttered.

"Yep, a good sign. Lights, Friday. We'll be back in a couple of hours."

Friday replied, "Yes, Boss." And the workshop went dark.


	22. Chapter 22

"Nomi? And who is this -" The woman who greeted them was taller than Stephen, and just as thin. Tony had never figured out how she did it, she could put away a tall stack even faster than he could. "Tony." She was one of the few people he was actually afraid of seeing again, in some ways even more than Stephen. Back before, before he had left the first time, she had warned him.

_"Mr. Stark."_

_"Call me Tony, please."_

_"Mr. Stark. I know your kind. You are runnin' from your world, thinkin' anything is better than what's waiting for you back there. These people? Nomi and Stevie? They are my people, family. They deserve more than a rich, white boy who is gonna break their hearts when you leave, and I know you will leave, maybe not right now, but you will. But they brought you here to me, they think you need some feedin' up, and they are right. Hurt them and -"_

"Penny." He steeled himself for anything, whatever she could dish out, he deserved, he thought to himself as he was pulled into the biggest bear hug he'd ever experienced in his life. He breathed out a sigh of relief and rested his head against her shoulder for a moment. 

He couldn't help but laugh as he heard her voice at his ear, "I'm glad to see your stupid, beautiful face again, Stark, but if you hurt them again -"

"I know, Penny."

She stepped back and nodded at him. "Good, as long as there is no misunderstanding. Two tall stacks and sausage, right? Coffee." She stalked off and left them to find a table for themselves. Tony was right. The other customers had looked up briefly as the bell announced their arrival, but then went back to their coffee and conversations, paying him no mind even as they could see his face on the front pages of the papers on the other tables as they walked to a corner table. 

Tony dropped onto the seat and shrugged. "People don't change that much."

"You did," Naomi said bluntly, then picked up a couple of packets of sugar and seemed to find them the most interesting things she had seen in days.

He was about to respond when Penny placed their coffees on the table, and gave him a wink, before she turned on her heel to greet more customers. "Did I? I don't know." He doctored his coffee then picked up the brown mug, and sighed as he breathed in the scent of the coffee he hadn't smelled in nearly ten years, then took a sip.

Naomi watched him for a long moment, then dumped the sugar into her coffee, added cream and waited until he put his mug down. "You're softer than you used to be."

"Softer."

"Not in a bad way, I mean. You always -" Naomi swore under her breath. She rarely had a hard time with expressing herself, except when it came to them. Especially Tony. She had all but betrayed Stephen by keeping in touch with him, even though she was honest with Stephen from the beginning. After she had stopped wanting to kill him after that night, when she thought he had broken Stephen's heart for good, Tony had left her a voice mail before he boarded the plane, trying to explain why he had flipped out. She had tried to convince Stephen to call him back, but had given up when he didn't speak to her for a week, outside of discussions about work - she had almost lost him.

"Two tall stacks and sausage," Penny's voice rang out, saving her from saying anything else at that moment. The look in Tony's eyes told her the conversation wasn't over, even as he returned Penny's grin with one of his own, and started pouring the syrup.

"Still got that sweet tooth, hmm. You are gonna save room for pie."

"Course," Naomi answered back, even though she knew Penny knew she had interrupted something, possibly on purpose. Penny always could see everything, but she also knew when to back off.

"Good. Got that strawberry-rhubarb you love, the winds told me you'd be back."

Tony laughed and returned her wink. "I think the front page of the Post told you that."

"Smart-ass. Eat up. Too thin, Tony, too thin." She nodded as he looked away from her. "Yeah, I know, kiddo, I know. Eat. You too, girl. We will talk later."

Naomi rolled her eyes, but answered, "Yes, Ma'am."

Tony snorted and Penny dropped her hip and glared at him until he glanced back up at her. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Glad we understand each other." She stalked off again and Tony let out a sigh of relief.

"I'd forgotten."

Naomi shook her head at him. "No, you hadn't, it's why you wanted to come here today."

"Don't change the subject."

"Subject?"

"People don't change. Do you think I've changed that much, honestly?" 

Naomi nodded, then picked up her fork and started eating. Tony huffed, but followed suit and minutes later, they were both too full to even think about pie. She pushed her plate away and studied his face. "You are porous now."

"Porous?" Tony asked with a grin.

"Maybe not the best word, but you are finally letting him, letting us in, not that you didn't love us before, I know you did, as much as you could love anyone. But you came home to us when it would have been easier not to. You could have gone back to your life - it would have been harder in some ways - the old you - you would have gone back there to hide."

"I couldn't hide anymore, Nomi."

Naomi smiled gently at him, moved her plate to the side and stretched out her hands to him. "I know, Tony, I know." She looked up to see Penny walking towards them and she whispered, "Ready for pie?"

He pushed his plate away and reached for her hands. "Bring it on."


	23. Chapter 23

"Have you told him what it was like?" She asked as she gently threaded her arm through his as they walked back to the workshop.

He kicked at a stone, then nodded, "Yeah, most of it. Some of it. You want to know the worst thing?" She maneuvered him to a bench under one of the last old trees in the neighborhood and helped him to sit down. "The loss of control was bad enough, the certainty that no one was going to find me, that really sucked at first. But the very worst thing was that I wasn't sure I was going to make it back to him, even after I got out of the camp. It wasn't until Rhodey found me walking in the desert, I had no clue where I was going, and then when I saw you there, when I woke up. When I saw you there - it didn't matter what they had done to me, I knew I was going to get home."

"I'm glad you did," Naomi whispered as she leaned carefully against his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I've missed you, you idiot."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and they sat in silence until they felt the first drops of rain. Tony looked up at the sky, then closed his eyes as the light rain fell on his face. "I'd forgotten, the rain. How different it is here."

Naomi watched as he got to his feet and stretched out his arms, then began to spin slowly, then faster as the rain picked up. She found she couldn't move, until he finally stopped, and blinked at her, and she understood it was going to take some time before he found his footing again. "Come on, let's go home, get you dry, hmm?"

He nodded, and let her lead him back to the bar, where Stephen had finally emerged from hours of fighting with his latest painting.

"Nomi?" He put down his mug of coffee and studied their faces, then nodded at her as he took Tony's hand and Naomi reached for her car keys.

"I'll be here to open, not expecting a crowd."

"Yeah, thanks -"

"Love you, Nomi," Tony mumbled as he leaned against Stephen's shoulder.

"Yeah, love you, Tones, see you tonight, get some sleep, yeah?"

Stephen met Nomi's eyes again, and blew her a kiss. She smiled at him and walked out the door.

"Hey, shower and bed, yeah? Maybe later -"

"Just want you."

"You got me, all of me, yeah?"

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"She asked me if I had told you what it was like..."

Stephen waited for him to go on, as he rinsed his hair, and he wondered if he should offer to cut it, it seemed there was still bits of sand left in it, no matter how much he rinsed -

"and it started to rain. The rain here - it didn't rain in Afghanistan, it was just too cold or too hot, nothing in between - and it's not like the rain in California, and I just wanted to be nowhere, for a minute, just not think about anything. And then I stopped spinning, and she was still there, and I remembered where I was, and that you were here."

"Want me to cut your hair?"

Tony turned to face him and after he brushed the long strands of hair from his eyes gave him a sheepish grin and nodded. "Please?"


	24. Chapter 24

"Hey girl." Penny muttered without looking up from her paperwork. The lunch rush was over, and the diner was empty. "Coffee?"

"No."

Penny put her pen down and glanced up at her. "Sit. You're not here for more pie."

Naomi shook her head and dropped onto the seat across from her.

"Boys."

"Yeah."

"They're a right mess."

"Uhmhmm."

"Gotta give 'em time."

"He says he's staying, and Stephen believes him -"

"And so do you."

Naomi shook her head, but whispered, "Yeah, I do."

"People don't change - not usually. Not without profound trauma - which he has been through. The physical part is bad enough, but it's the emotional side of things - he's gonna lean hard, darlin'. I could see how hard he was holding onto himself, and he knew I knew. He also saw I'd been there, done that. Not anything close to what he's been through, but - the scars show up, ya know?"

"Yeah. So what -"

"What do you do?"

Naomi nodded, then picked up a couple of sugar packets and swore as her hand shook. 

"You love 'em. You show up for 'em, and when you need a break, you come and sit with me and eat some pie." She got up and smiled gently at her. "With a glass of milk, because I can tell you don't need any more caffeine, girl. Saved a piece of Strawberry-Rhubarb for you, knew you'd be back today."

Naomi stared out the window and groaned as the rain started again, then managed a smile as Penny placed a plate in front of her. "Figured ice cream wouldn't hurt?"

"Thanks."

"When you gonna start your next mural?"

"Soon. Just -" she took a bite of pie and closed her eyes.

"Just -?"

"- got a lot -"

"A lot on your plate. Yeah. I know they are family, and they need you. But you also need to take care of you. Do what makes you happy. Last I heard painting made you happy."

"It does."

Penny rolled her eyes. "I've got a big wall out front there. I'd pay whatever the going rate is for -"

"Penny."

"Exposure doesn't pay the bills, now does it? I've got some money saved, and it might give me an afternoon crowd, couldn't hurt, could it? And, it would give you something else to focus on, while those two figure things out. You can't do the work for them, Nomi."

"I know, I just wish it wasn't so hard -"

"Life is hard. Mostly. Now eat up before that ice cream melts, and then talk to me, about you, hmmm?"

"Yes, ma'am." Naomi breathed out a sigh of relief and felt her shoulders relax for the first time since Tony had been home.


	25. Chapter 25

As he combed out Tony's hair, it occurred to him it hadn't even been a week since he had come home, five days, not even five days had passed, and it felt like it had been a month, and five minutes, and as Tony opened his eyes to look at him, he found it hard to breathe for a moment. "Sorry. I have an odd relationship with time, especially where you are concerned. I'm already used to you being here - and it's just been a few days, and I -" he put the comb down, and gently lifted Tony's chin with a single finger and searched the dark brown eyes that were studying him carefully. "I wish I could slow everything down, and spend every single minute making sure that you know - I'm shit at this. I need you to know I'm not in a hurry - I don't expect, I want to be what you need, and I don't know if I am doing the right things - or saying what you need to hear -"

Tony took his time to answer, measuring his words, not rushing for once, as he reached up to tuck a curl behind Stephen's ear. "Honestly, I thought... once I got out, all I could think about was you. Wondering if I had truly fucked up the one good thing, the only true thing, I ever had in my life. You have a quality about you, something rare, Stephen, and I know how you feel about absolutes, but there is, at the center of you, a quiet certainty about life, I guess? Peace, some would call it. I think when we met, you somehow discovered, or dislodged a bit of that in me, and you saw that more than the trappings of my world." He sighed as he saw Stephen's nose crinkle in confusion, and he shook his head. "Right now, at the moment, what I need? A haircut so I can see your beautiful eyes better. We'll worry about what comes after when it comes?"

"You'll forgive me if, not sure how this will -" Stephen began, then stopped as Tony laid a trembling hand on his, and no other words were said, and soon the only sounds that could be heard were the snips of the scissors and the late morning traffic that sped by below.

It was only after another shower, and they were quietly curled together, Tony's fingers resting over Stephen's wrist and his ear pressed over his heart that Stephen cleared his throat and spoke quietly to the room, not even to Tony especially, but it was for Tony's benefit. He had never spoken of his past, except the once to Danny, when he had taken him in that one cold winter night, so long ago now, and only after his first and last glass of a decent brandy had been pushed into his shivering hands.

"You see in me, what did you call it, 'a quiet certainty?' That quality nearly got me killed. More than once. By people, people who should have loved and protected me. _Family_." He snorted derisively, and sighed as he felt the tears stream down his face. "I came from a 'good family' in the Midwest, a long line of doctors, much was 'expected,' as the only son, and the first born. I came here, to New York, to escape, and to become someone else, anyone else, I had hoped as an artist, and I was lucky to end up here. As far as I know, I'm dead to them, or they've simply decided to forget I exist. I didn't go so far as to change my name, it was the one good thing they gave me." 

He felt Tony shift so he was holding him in his arms, and he froze at first, not wanting to hurt him, then relaxed as he felt Tony press kisses into his hair, then settle back into the pillows, and waited for him to go on. "When I met you, I think, I saw a bit of myself in you, and something gave way. I ignored all the warning signs, even though I knew better, I had convinced myself you were just another commission. But from that first sitting, you changed something in me - I just didn't know how much."

"In a good way, I hope?" Tony mumbled into his hair. Stephen moved carefully until he was sitting up and looked down into the brown eyes that he knew so well, and wiped away the tear that slipped down onto the pillow.

"Yeah. Even after I thought, even after you left the last time, and I didn't want to think about you - I kept painting. Not just you. Though you were always there, in my fingers." He looked down at his hands, as if they could offer an explanation.

Tony reached out his hand and placed it gently on his face. "Look at me, Buttercup."

Stephen shook his head, then glanced at him and was shaken by the gentle patience in his eyes, something he had never really seen before. "Tony?"

"I've never had much use for family myself, but, if you want, I'll be yours - your family. I know it's - and I'm not -"

Stephen leaned closer and kissed him, then let out a sigh as Tony's fingers found their way into the mess of curls and tugged ever so slightly. "Yes. Just don't let me go?"

"I won't. I promise, Stephen."


	26. Chapter 26

As Tony watched him sleep, he wondered for a moment if he deserved to have this, what was it? Grace, Nomi would call it, grace. She wasn't religious, hadn't stepped a foot in a church for years, but she had her own ideas about faith and forgiveness. And Yinsen. Nomi and Yinsen would have been friends, he could imagine them chatting over coffee and laughing - he had heard Yinsen laugh once, a peculiar sound in that place, and as he closed his eyes, he could see him, the light in his eyes as he shook his head.

"Tony. May I call you, Tony?"

He had nodded as he blew on the steaming, overly strong tea in his frozen hands, before taking a sip.

"Those who love us, they know our flaws and our strengths, and see beyond what you can see in that bit of mirror there. Your family, the ones you chose, the ones who chose you - you will see them again and they will welcome you home."

He had shaken his head doubtfully, then looked up again, and saw the certainty in Yinsen's eyes. "You are no longer the man you were when you first came here, you weren't even him then - we create faces to protect ourselves from those who might hurt us, yes? You no longer wear that mask, and they will see you, and know, and you won't have to prove anything to them."

"But -"

"Why?" It was then that Yinsen laughed, a warm, gentle sound, so out of place in that cave. "Love, love is a mystery, one can never tell exactly why it happens for some and not so easily for others. Your father, I think, from what I knew of him, did not know how to love - but you - you had it, and you have already decided to fight for it, for them. I know, Tony, that you will get back to them -"

"Tony?"

"Hmmm?"

Stephen rubbed his eyes and realized darkness had fallen. "Damn. How long have I slept?"

"Seven hours, maybe a little more?"

"And you -"

"Just thinking, and watching you sleep."

"Sorry."

"No. I made a deal - I promised not to waste my life, and being here with you, holding you as you sleep, is definitely not a waste of my time."

Stephen studied his face, and knew there was more Tony wasn't saying, but he didn't push, and he nodded before he kissed him lightly, then got to his feet, and strode over to the easel where he glared at his latest painting for a moment before removing it, and turning it so it faced the wall. He picked up a new canvas, a much smaller one, and set to work - every once in a while he paused and met Tony's eyes glittering at him, and all he could do was roll his eyes in return. "I never felt like I saw you - I've been trying for years to see you, and get it right, get you - oh." He dropped the brush on his palette, and Tony sat up.

"Steph?" He slipped out of bed and wandered over to the canvas, and drew in a sharp breath, as he saw the face Yinsen had seen that night, or morning - he had lost track of time by that point, and he finally understood what he had meant. "You see, you - how -?" He shook his head and turned to face him, then reached up and held his face in his trembling hands and didn't try to wipe away the tears that were streaming down his face, and there was nothing he could think to say, so he said nothing as he took him by the hand, and led him back to bed. He knew they both had things they should be doing, but at that moment, nothing was more important than being there with him, and as Stephen touched him in a way he never had before, he knew Yinsen had been right. Love was a mystery.


	27. Chapter 27

Tony walked into the empty bar, dark now, except for the sunlight streaming through the windows, and blinked at the tornado of paper that was strewn on nearly every flat surface, before discovering Naomi asleep, her head nested on her arms, in a corner booth. He began to pick up the discarded sheets of drawing paper, then stopped short and dropped onto the seat across from her, as he realized what he was holding in his hands. 

At first, it looked like she was trying to plan out her next idea for a mural, but then the drawings began to change, into something - frankly it - _she_ was elegant, far more streamlined than even he had considered in his designs for the updated armor that he had been thinking about ever since he crash landed in Afghanistan.

"Tony? Shit. I - uhm. Slow night, closed early, then I, well, Penny offered me a wall, a couple of walls -" She glanced up at the clock over the bar then swore under her breath as she saw the sketches in his hand. "I -" Her words failed her momentarily, but then she recovered enough to ask him quietly, "What was it like to fly?"

"Fly?" 

"You know, in the armor?" She bit her lip, wondering if she had overstepped.

"That wasn't flying," he said as he considered the few seconds when he escaped from the camp. "That was blasting out of a tight spot in a very heavy tin can and crash landing roughly ten seconds later. That's the most I had hoped for, it worked as designed, and it basically broke apart on the descent. I only had a few days to build it, but this?" He pointed at the top drawing and placed it in front of her. "This is beautiful. Elegant. Doable."

"It's just a rough idea."

"Nomi."

She shook her head, then began to collect the stray papers that covered the table.

"You want to fly."

"I want to -" she stopped shuffling papers and finally met his gaze. "Yeah, Tony, I want to fly, so I can look down and see the beauty of my bit of the world, and maybe even fix some of the broken parts, at least maybe slow some of the ugliness. But that's probably too much to ask for." She stopped and stared down at her hands, before looking up at him again. "Do you really think you can build her - it?"

"No, but _we_ can. It will take time, a lot of time, and it's more than likely that we will fail a few times before we get it right because no one has really done this before, not even me, not yet. Take some time to really think if you want to do this, and if you do -"

"You really think -"

"I think, no, I know, that we could build her and get you flying, yeah, I do."

Naomi searched her friend's face, and saw that something had changed, especially in the last couple of days, it had to be - "You and Stephen?"

"We are -" she watched the small, shy smile brighten his face and she couldn't help but grin at him in return. "We're good, Nomi, mostly because of you. Because you, well, you believed in me enough, in us, and he, well, he never stopped loving me."

"And -?" She asked. "You -"

"I love him, and it doesn't scare me anymore."

She stared down at the drawing in her hand and shook her head. "You just got home. I -"

"What did you dream of when you were a kid?"

"What?"

"What was the one thing you always dreamed of? Everyone has that one thing -"

"Yeah, okay. Like Superman. I wanted to fly like Superman. I wanted to feel free. I mean, I know it won't really be like that, but -" She gazed at the drawing again, and nodded. "Yeah. I want this, Tones, more than I ever wanted anything."

Tony studied her face and smiled again, then got up from his seat, and helped her to her feet. "But first, you need to go home and sleep. We'll start tomorrow."

"But -"

"Go home, sweet." He kissed her cheek, then walked over to where she always stored her bag behind the bar, pulled it out and draped it over her shoulder. "We can handle the rush tonight, we'll call in reinforcements if we need to. Home. Eat something, rest."

She placed a hand on his cheek and shook her head. "Look at you, all grown up, Tony Stark."

"No," He answered quietly. "I just know what I'm meant to do, Nomi. I finally know." He opened the door for her and watched as she started walking, then stopped, turned around and ran back to wrap him in a bear hug that nearly took his breath away.

"Thank you," she whispered, then stepped back again. "Going home now. See you tomorrow."

"What is it?" Stephen asked without lifting his eyes from the canvas in front of him. "What did you do?"

"We're gonna help Nomi fly."

Stephen glanced up then, and found all he could do was drop his brush into the jar, cross the room to stand in front of him and kiss him before mumbling into his hair, "Yeah, yeah, we will."


End file.
